


Worth The Wait

by adamwhatareyouevendoing



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Handcuffs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Prison Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-10-16 03:06:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17541485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adamwhatareyouevendoing/pseuds/adamwhatareyouevendoing
Summary: It’s an audacious plan, Elias knows, but it’s been too long since he last saw Anthony’s face.Elias finds a way to spend some time alone with Anthony during his sentence. Set during mid/late S2.





	Worth The Wait

**Author's Note:**

> I finally finally finished season two, after only, what? five months? pretty good going for me

It’s an audacious plan, Elias knows, but what’s the point of having power if he can’t bend the rules every now and again. Besides, it’s been too long since he last saw Anthony’s face. In the months that have passed since his imprisonment, they have only had time for quick snatches of conversation over burner phones, and even then it has only been for business.

It had been easy enough to arrange. Two cops on his payroll are stationed outside the door of the interrogation room, allowing Elias and his lieutenant to discuss some important business in private. They are under orders not to disturb them unless absolutely necessary.

Anthony is already there waiting for him, dressed in his officer’s uniform and leaning nonchalantly against the wall on the other side of the room, watching as Elias is lead in by his handcuffs. His expression remains perfectly neutral, regarding Elias coolly as he is forced into a chair across the table from him.

“Mr. Elias,” Anthony intones, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth at being able to address him as such. He kicks off the wall, nodding to the guard who brought Elias from the cells—giving him permission to retreat.

The door closes, leaving them alone.

Anthony drops down into the seat across from Elias. “I take it we won’t be disturbed?”

“Not for as long as you need to interrogate me for,” Elias says, quirking an eyebrow.

“Or watched?” Anthony’s eyes flick quickly to the camera in the corner of the room, then back to Elias.

Elias shakes his head. “The feed has been… tampered with.” He doesn’t need to explain that it is courtesy of his chess partner—either Anthony knows, or will have guessed. He may not have cause to trust Harold himself, but he trusts Elias’s judgment without question.

“Good,” Anthony murmurs, his posture finally relaxing. He stretches back in his chair, flicking open the top button of his shirt and loosening the tie around his neck. He gazes across the table at Elias, a smile curving his lips.

A moment later, Elias feels the press of a shoe against the inside of his ankle, fine leather against coarse fabric.

Anthony’s eyes are fixed on his, a familiar twinkle in their depths. “Boss,” he says, voice tinged with relief and longing. It sounds as though he has said it just to savour the feel of it on his tongue.

The pressure against his ankle disappears briefly as Anthony shifts, then returns just as swiftly. Elias can feel the warmth of him now, seeping through the thin material of his uniform, as Anthony slides a sock-clad foot slowly up his calf, then trails tortuously higher to push his knees apart.

Anthony’s gaze flicks down to watch his throat work as he swallows. Elias wants to lean across the table and kiss that lazy smile from his lips. He worries that his eyes say as much.

“Tease,” he mutters.

“And here I was thinking that was the point of this little exercise,” Anthony grins, positively wolfish now. His toes curl against Elias’s thigh, then finally move to where he needs that exquisite pressure the most.

There is no point in pretending he is not affected by this. His hips lift off the chair without his volition, seeking out the delicious friction.

“So, you missed me, huh?” Anthony teases.

“Shut up,” Elias replies fondly.

He watches as Anthony’s eyes darken with intent. “Make me.”

It is worded as a challenge, but Elias knows how readily Anthony will do this for him—how easy it is to bring him to his knees. He has made it his business to study the weaknesses of others, to learn how to press his advantage, and Anthony is no exception. It has been a more pleasurable study than most.

He leans forwards in his seat, just a little—just enough to tempt Anthony to lean across the table to meet him. He pauses, his lips lingering just a fraction away from Anthony’s, then turns his head to whisper in his ear.

“I don’t need to make you,” he says evenly. “You will do this even without my command.”

He feels Anthony’s acquiescence as a shaky exhale against his cheek, and rewards him by finally bringing their lips together.

The first kiss was never going to be soft and slow—they have been apart for too long for it not to turn hard and fierce almost instantly, in a clash of teeth and tongue. It is an argument and an apology all at once. Anthony bites at Elias’s lower lip and then kisses it away immediately.

“Boss,” he sighs, his hand dropping from the back of Elias’s neck to clasp at his cuffed wrist. “I—”

Elias cuts him off with another quick kiss, stealing the words from his tongue. They haven’t spoken about his incarceration, despite the months that have passed, but now is not the time either. He doesn’t need Anthony’s recrimination and regrets to add to his own. There is only one thing he wants—only one thing that will absolve them.

Anthony needs no further encouragement, rounding the table and pushing Elias’s chair back with a strong hand. Elias looks up at him, regarding him as calmly as he can with his blood thundering in his veins. There is no guilt in Anthony’s expression now, just desire and determination.

He sinks to his knees in front of him.

“You’re so good for me,” Elias tells him, spreading his legs to allow Anthony to settle between them. The floor must be cold and hard against his kneecaps but Anthony does not seem to mind. He nudges his cheek against Elias’s thigh, mouthing at the seam of the garish uniform.

Elias’s breath catches in his chest as Anthony’s mouth trails up, closer, closer, to where he is straining against his clothing. He sucks wetly at the fabric until Elias is fully hard and fighting not to shift beneath him.

“Anthony,” he says, as close to an order as he will get. His earlier words still stand, and he certainly will not beg.

It is enough. Anthony finally draws him out of his pants, gazing up at him as he takes the head of Elias’s cock into his mouth. Elias does not thrust into that warm wet heat, but it’s a close thing. Instead he fists a hand in Anthony’s hair, holding him as best he can with his wrists cuffed together.

Anthony pulls back to run his tongue over the slit, light and lingering, teasing him until Elias is close to growling at him to get on with it. Just as he is about to throw caution to the wind and abandon all restraint—it’s been too long, goddammit, he just _wants_ —Anthony presses in and slides his cock fully down his throat.

Elias’s eyelids flutter shut for a moment, his head thrown back as Anthony swallows around the length of him, but he quickly forces them open again. He has no idea when he will next be able to see Anthony like this. He will not waste a single second staring at the ceiling when he has the man he cares about most in the world before him. There will be plenty of time for that later, back in his cell, when he is left with only memories of this moment.

“Look at you,” he murmurs breathlessly, watching the motion of Anthony’s head as he works around him. “So good for me, so good.” He reaches out to brush the backs of his fingers against Anthony’s cheek clumsily, the movement restricted by the cuffs. It is a moment of unchecked emotion, one he so rarely permits, but Anthony does not tease him for it.

Elias moves to trace a fingertip down the line of Anthony’s scar instead. The touch does not feel less like a caress. It is closer to worship than he would like.

Anthony slowly draws his lips off Elias’s cock, looking up at him. “Come on, boss,” he growls, voice gratifyingly roughened. “Wanna make you come.”

Elias’s hips stutter forwards as though desperately seeking the heat of Anthony’s mouth. God, he wants nothing more.

He does not last long with the weight of Anthony’s eyes on him as well as his mouth, not bothering to warn him before he comes down his throat now he knows that Anthony is ready for him. Anthony swallows around him easily.

“Jeez,” Elias mutters, once he has recovered enough to speak. “We are not waiting this long to do that again.” He drags Anthony up by the lapel of his jacket to kiss him messily, tasting himself on his tongue.

Anthony surges up towards him and Elias feels his quiet laugh as a breath of air against his lips. “Agreed,” he huffs.

Elias uses his momentary distraction as an opportunity to reach up and tug at his hair, exposing the curve of Anthony’s neck to his lips. He trails a line of kisses down, down, then bites sharply at the soft skin just above his clavicle. Anthony tugs the collar of his shirt lower, allowing Elias easier access.

“God, boss, please,” he urges, and Elias knows what he is asking for. He wants to be marked—wants a lasting reminder of this moment so that when he wakes tomorrow, it will be easier to convince himself it was real.

Elias is only too happy to oblige, watching the dark bruise bloom to life against Anthony’s tanned skin.

When he looks up, Anthony’s eyes are closed, his lips parted as he breathes heavily. He looks ravaged. Now Elias needs to see him come apart.

He bends down to reach between them and presses a hand to the bulge in Anthony’s pants.

Anthony’s eyes fly open, fixing wildly on him as he fumbles with the button and zipper, finally pushing them down Anthony’s hips to wrap his hand around him. The angle is awkward and the cuffs must be harsh and cold against his skin but Anthony doesn’t complain.

“Fuck, _oh_ , fuck,” he groans, his hands coming up to clutch at Elias’s thighs as he thrusts into his fist. “Boss, please.”

Elias knows what he needs. “You’ve done so well,” he tells him, and means it. They are not just empty words intended to get him off—it’s not about what Anthony has just done for him. He couldn’t have retained his influence if Anthony hadn’t been out there these last few months, running things for him. “It’s okay,” he says, “come on, you can.”

Anthony gives a final gasping breath and then spills over Elias’s hand, his body shuddering. Elias holds him there in his embrace until Anthony comes back to himself.

“Well,” Elias murmurs, wiping his hand on the tissue that Anthony offers him. “I trust the interrogation was to your satisfaction?”

Anthony finishes smoothing out their uniforms and grins up at him boldly. “I think I got what I came for, Mr. Elias.”

For the first time today, Elias allows himself to return the smile. It might be a long time before they can risk seeing each other again, but for now, this is enough.

 


End file.
